


the allegory of the people in the cave by the Greek guy

by fits_in_frames



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-01
Updated: 2009-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He shows up at Olivia's apartment at 7:30 one morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the allegory of the people in the cave by the Greek guy

**Author's Note:**

> _when i made a shadow on my window shade_  
>  _they called the police and testified_  
>  _but they're like the people chained up in the cave_  
>  _in the allegory of the people in the cave by the greek guy_  
>  {they might be giants // no one knows my plan}  
> 
> 
> Written for Porn Battle VII ([original comment](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/394717.html?thread=22310365#t22310365)).

He shows up at Olivia's apartment at 7:30 one morning. No call, no warning, not even the sound of his footsteps coming up the hall. She jumps and the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention when he knocks, though she resists the urge to grab her gun. She looks through the peep hole and he's grinning that goofy grin. Fortunately, she was just getting ready for work, so she's mostly decent. She opens the door.

"Morning," he says, holding up two styrofoam cups. "I brought caffeine."

She smiles. "You didn't have to do this," she says, but still stands back to let him in.

"Walter was being particularly difficult last night, I wanted to make it up to you."

"It's all right," she says, pulling her hair into a bun. He follows her inside.

"He shouldn't be so mean to you, I tell him all the time--" He looks surprisingly natural sprawled out on her kitchen chair.

"I said it's all right," she says, sitting down, wrapping her hands around her cup. "Everything we deal with is so unreal, your father's tantrums remind me he's only human."

"Tantrums," Peter says into his coffee before taking a sip. "That's a good word for them."

She smiles before quickly looking away when he turns to her

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"What." It's not a question anymore. She turns to him.

"It's just sweet how exasperated you get with him."

He rolls his eyes, slumps down in his chair. "Great."

"It just shows you care." That, in turn, sparks her memory. She leans over. Something Walter said... "Is what he says about you true? That you're worried about me when I go on assignment? Or is he just trying to ruin your life again?"

She expected him to act surprised, sputtery, anything except smooth, which is exactly how he responds. "Well, he's not trying to ruin my life." He leans in a little. "Yet."

Olivia knows it's a bad idea to kiss him, but the way his mouth quirks up into a little coy smile--she just can't help it. She hasn't kissed anyone since Lucas, and before that it was only John, and she's overwhelmed at how Peter tastes and feels--how un-FBI, how common-man, how _real_. He scoots his chair closer, and she knows--rationally, in the back of her mind and on the tip of her tongue--that--

"This is a bad idea," he murmurs into her mouth, hand still in her hair.

"Yeah," she whispers, "it is." And she kisses him again.

They end up on her couch, mostly-naked (she was only half-dressed to begin with, so that certainly helped). She fumbles in the drawer of the end table behind her, pulls out a little silver package.

He lifts an eyebrow at her. "Seriously? In the end table?"

"I'm full of surprises," she retorts, and rips it open with her teeth.

"This is a _really_ bad idea," he reiterates as he rolls the condom on, but she rubs her hips against his, and that's all the convincing he needs.

He's her first since John, and she'd almost forgotten what it was like. His fucking, like his kissing, is raw and real. She lets her eyes roll back in her head when his hand slips between her legs, groans as her body closes around him. He grunts as he thrusts into her, and comes quickly. They don't have time for anything else, really, but she lets him lay his head on her chest for a little while, just to feel his skin against hers.

"That was a really good idea," she says, stroking the nape of his neck with her thumb.

"Hmm?" he asks, and it's a perfectly legitimate question.

"It was like a--a return to the cave, you know?"

He looks up at her, confused. "Like, you mean cavemen instincts, or...?"

"Plato," she says, matter-of-factly. "Allegory of the cave. You know, the return to--"

"Where we think we know what's real, yeah," he says, settling back into her. "Just never had a woman get all philosophical on me. Do you always do that post-coitus?" He pauses. "God, I sound like my father."

"No, I don't, and no, you don't," she says, trying not to giggle, because he sort of did, but it's okay.

"'S sweet of you," he says. "Don't tell him about this, okay?"

"Of course," she murmurs. "Our little secret."

"I'd never hear the end of it." Then, after a moment, "Coffee's probably cold by now."

"It's all right," she says, kissing the top of his head. "You woke me up just fine."


End file.
